


A Stork Named Coulson

by silver_drip



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Iron Man - All Media Types
Genre: Brain Damage, M/M, Rare Pairings, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates, Tony Stark Has A Heart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-23
Updated: 2016-05-23
Packaged: 2018-06-10 07:39:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6946039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silver_drip/pseuds/silver_drip
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fitz is dropped off in the lobby of Stark Tower not long after his trip to the bottom of the ocean.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Stork Named Coulson

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Stella_Malodi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stella_Malodi/gifts), [CatrinaSL](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CatrinaSL/gifts).



> You two write so many awesome soulmate fics and deserve a gift!
> 
> FYI: A soulmark is the first thing their soulmate says to them.

* * *

There was a baby on Tony Stark’s doorstep. Technically in his lobby. Also, technically not a baby.

There was a twenty-something year old in Tony Stark’s lobby.

Attached to the young man’s shirt was a piece of paper fastened with a safety pin. Very baby on a doorstep-esque.

His hair was brown and curly, but his blue eyes were distant. His hands made strange twitching motions as he paced, talking to himself.

The only reason Happy hadn’t had him escorted out was because Jarvis recognized the handwriting on the folded note.

The handwriting of someone Tony thought was dead.

If this was a trick, heads would roll.

Tony watched from the monitors as Happy retrieved the note. It was in his hand a minute later.

_Stark,_

_Dr. Fitz was hurt during the fall of SHIELD. He has brain damage from drowning. My team and I can’t take protect him right now. You are the only one I trust and has the proper resources to get him help and give him somewhere safe to rest._

_Please take good care of him._

_-Coulson_

“J, see if you can get any finger prints off this.” A light scanned the paper.

“Three prints identified, yours, Mr. Hogun’s, and Agent Coulson’s. There is also an unknown print. I would wager that it is Dr. Fitz’.” Jarvis paused. “There is only one Dr. Fitz that matches his description. Leopold ‘Leo’ Fitz. Twenty-seven years old. Member of SHIELD. Various degrees in engineering. Known associate: Jemma Simmons, a bio-chemistry expert and SHIELD agent. No know attachments to Hydra. 89% handwriting match to Philip Coulson. Ink indicates that it was written within the last twelve hours.”

Tony let out a sigh.

“Backtrack his movements. I want to see where this Fitz character came from.” The image on screen started rewinding before cutting to outside. The recording slowed down as a shabby looking van appeared. He watched as an Asian woman helped him out of the van and into the building in reverse. Jarvis paused and zoomed in on the van’s side mirror. A familiar face was reflected there. “Son of a bitch.”

The recording picked up speed again, jumping from one street camera to another.

“No images have been found before they left the parking garage.”

“Keep on looking and get Happy on the line.”

“You want me to kick this kid out?” Happy asked, glancing up at one of the cameras Tony was viewing the lobby through.

“No, bring him up to the penthouse. A stork named Coulson dropped him off.”

Tony could see Happy’s stunned expression.

“Right away, boss.”

Tony got up and poured himself a glass of scotch. He hadn’t even had time to get to the lab before Jarvis had alerted him to the situation.

His leg was hopping up and down as he waited.

The elevator pinged open and Happy walked in, his hand wrapped around Fitz’ upper arm. Happy didn’t looked pleased with the situation as Fitz looked around like a tourist.

“It’s alright, Happy.” Tony gave his friend and head of security a nod. Happy shifted on his feet, but relenting.

Tony watched Fitz for a minute. There was something innocent about the way he looked around. His eyes seemed to flutter around, flashes of comprehension few and far between.

Tony stood up and went to him.

Fitz gazed at him for a moment, but didn’t meet his eyes.

_“Look, orphan Annie, I don’t usually take in strays, but when someone writes me from beyond the grave I feel strangely compelled to listen to them.”_ Fitz looked at him again, before focusing on the window behind Tony.

“No, Jemma, that clearly won’t work.” Fitz walked by him and Tony followed him into the living room.

“Jemma Simmons?” Tony asked, worrying about how much brain damage he had. Fitz didn’t acknowledge him. Tony frowned. “Jarvis, get a doctor who can evaluate his condition, some clothes and necessities for him, and order up some food from that Greek place two blocks away.”

“Right away, Sir. Where would you like me to deliver his items.”

“Hmm,” Tony hummed. “The spare bedroom, I guess.” He didn’t want to send Fitz too far away, not certain on how well he’d be able to take care of himself.

Fitz was looking out the panoramic windows, one hand resting on the glass. He was so close that his breath fogged the window.

Tony went to the kitchen and threw together a smoothie. He left out his usual chlorophyll extract, opting for taste over nutrition. He turned around with two glasses in hand and nearly dropped them. Fitz had been standing right behind him, eyes on the ceiling.

“Don’t make me put a bell on you,” Tony threatened half-heartedly. Fitz didn’t seem to notice.

Tony held out the smoothie, but Fitz didn’t react. He set aside his own and slowly took Fitz’ hand. Fitz watched the movement, his head cocked. Tony placed the smoothie and let out a relieved sigh when Fitz grasped it. Fitz downed half of it before cringing and stuttering.

“That, my dear, is what we call a brain freeze.” Tony took a sip of his smoothie. “You’ve got to take it slow.” Fitz mirrored his action before wondering off, drink still in hand. Tony sighed again. “I’m out of my depth, J.”

“You seem to be doing well so far, Sir.”

* * *

After seeing a few doctors and using the in house medical facilities it was recommended that Fitz saw a speech pathologist and to practice a few techniques to start building up his ability to be in the present.

Tony was relieved when it became clear that Fitz could handle day to day life. Tony didn’t want another stranger around to take care of Fitz. So long as Fitz had what he needed in front of him, clothes, water, food, and the like, he could function.

They fell into a routine, since the doctors said that was important for his recovery.

They had breakfast together where Tony ranted about what was going on in his life. After that Fitz was left alone with Jarvis who helped him practice his techniques. Around sunset the pair would have dinner together and Tony talked about what he was working, pausing for responses, but never getting one. After that they played card games. It was one of the few things Fitz seemed to be able to concentrate on.

When Fitz lost interest they went to the living room. Tony gave him the remote and Fitz flipped through the channels, only lingering on each for a minute at most. So far his favorite were infomercials.

Tony chuckled whenever he scoffed at one of the gimmicks, before frowning when Fitz complained about it to the woman that wasn’t there.

Fitz would randomly conk out and Tony would carry him back to the guest room, only to repeat the process the following day.

* * *

Fitz looked agitated and Tony couldn’t figure out why. He was pacing around, mumbling things to Jemma that didn’t make sense.

Tony’s gut clenched as he watched him. He didn’t know how to help.

Fitz ran into the leg of a chair and started cursing up a storm, his Scottish accent becoming thicker.

“Hey, hey, enough of that,” Tony said softly while moving towards him. He carefully put his hand on Fitz’ shoulder and guided him to the couch.

Fitz crossed his arms over his chest, his mouth pinched.

“Stay here. I’m going to get you some ice for your leg.” Tony waited a moment. Fitz didn’t move.

Tony came back with an icepack wrapped in a dish towel. He sat on the couch and maneuvered Fitz’ legs onto his lap.

“This is going to be cold.” He sat the icepack on the spot that Fitz had hit against the chair. Fitz flopped backwards, laying on the rest of the couch, seemingly unbothered by the cold. “You want to tell me what’s wrong?”

“No,” Fitz said and Tony perked up, “that equation doesn’t work at all. This is academy level. What are you thinking, Jemma?” Tony felt himself deflate a bit. He couldn’t tell if Fitz had gotten any better since he had arrived over two weeks ago.

The speech pathologist wasn’t telling him anything due to doctor patient confidentiality.

It was frustrating, but Tony figured it had to be a hundred times more frustrating for Fitz.

Tony was doing his best, but his best didn’t seem to be enough.

* * *

“Sir, there is a development,” Jarvis said while Tony was elbow deep in wires. “Doctor Fitz is writing on the walls.”

“I’ll be there in a moment. Make sure he doesn’t end up hurting himself.” Tony snagged up a mangled rag as he hurried to the elevator.

He felt nauseatingly worried as the numbers in the elevator ascended. He was scrubbing his hands, blackening the already dark rag. It would have to do.

The elevator opened and Tony rushed to the source of the mumbling.

The whole area smelled of sharpies as Tony saw Fitz, a myriad of equations and schematics forming on the wall. Tony spotted a napkin on the floor. Tony had jotted down an idea the night before on it.

The mess on the wall came together in Tony’s mind.

“Not bad.” Tony fished a marker out of his pocket before stepping to Fitz’ side. He crossed out a jotted down shorthand of materials. “This material will increase the tensile strength.” Fitz didn’t hear him. Tony pulled him over gently and underlined the change he made. Fitz stared at it, tapping the open end of his marker against his jeans before looking at the whole wall. He jumped back into action, calculating the change in tensile strength before adjusting the relevant equations.

Tony smiled.

Fitz was a genius and Tony was happy to help.

* * *

It was near midnight by the time they ran out of wall space. Fitz was swaying on his feet. They had skipped lunch and dinner.

Tony guided him to the couch before grabbing yesterday’s take out.

Fitz’ head was bobbing up and down, his eyes closed.

“Food then bed,” Tony said while sticking the open container of fried rice beneath Fitz’ nose. He perked up and took the food.

Tony sat next to him, loudly slurping up soup.

Jarvis had turned on the TV, but Fitz looked like he was concentrating on his food and didn’t notice the TV.

Tony was caught up with staring at the terrible suspense show and eating his over salted meal that he almost jumped when Fitz leaned against him. More than that Fitz scooted into his lap and rested his head on Tony’s shoulder, wrapping his arms around Tony’s chest. Fitz let out a huff and relaxed.

Tony was frozen in spot, not knowing how to react. After a moment he set aside his now tepid soup and pulled Fitz closer. Fitz let out a hum that Tony interpreted as being happy.

Tony let himself rest his head against Fitz’.

It was only hours later when Fitz was snoring and Tony’s legs were cramping up that he took Fitz back to the guest room.

* * *

Tony started taking Fitz down to the lab. He carved out a large area for him and put a few of his half concocted ideas in a list on the wall.

Fitz had zoned in on them almost immediately after looking at what Tony was working on.

He was mumbling to himself before dropping the paper. Tony scooped it up and taped it back on the wall as Fitz started working on one of Tony’s more absurd ideas.

Tony smiled as Fitz became all huffy as he wrote on the wall. It made him look annoyed, but excited. It was a good look on him.

Tony stopped that thought in its tracks. It would do neither of them any good for Tony to become attracted to Fitz. The doctors made it clear that Fitz wasn’t going to be ready for a new friendship for months, let alone a romantic relationship.

Tony could also judge for himself that it was a bad idea. Fitz rarely acknowledged him and didn’t even notice when he was around.

He went back to his own schematics, trying to drown out his thoughts and feelings.

* * *

The best part of Tony’s day was when Fitz shoved him out of the way to get one of Tony’s tools. He was always mumbling to himself and not giving a lick about Tony’s personal space. He was even worse when Tony snuck over to his part of the lab and adjusted Fitz’ work to make it better. Fitz sometimes grabbed onto his arm halfway through before reading what Tony was putting down and letting him go. It was even better when Fitz crossed out what Tony added and changed it back, looking grumpy.

Tony’s second favorite part of the day was when Fitz snuggled up to him. It was only second because Fitz sometimes had nightmares when he fell asleep. Tony had taken to messing up his mop of curly hair.

He quickly got over being drooled on. It was worth it.

* * *

It was two and a half months in when things started changing.

There was a marked increase in eye contact.

It put Tony off balance, but not in a bad way.

Sometimes Fitz would just stare at him, his eyes wide and analytical.

Other times they’d make eye contact and Fitz would look at one of his schematics, always to a material Fitz needed to complete a project.

On the couch, after dinner Fitz’ blue eyes would droop as he struggled to keep them open, his eyes not straying from Tony. He’d only give in when Tony pulled him into his arms.

He’d stopped talking to his friend that wasn’t there and more to himself, sometimes even commenting on what he was watching or eating.

Fitz fluttered around the lab from time to time. Tony could tell that he loved it there. Tony knocked down a wall to make the lab bigger, just for Fitz.

Tony had to keep fighting down the urge to embrace him randomly. The faces and noises Fitz made while he was working were just so damn adorable.

He also had a mischievous side that had caused Tony to squawk on more than one occasion. Fitz often stole Tony’s coffee or replaced it with water when he was not paying attention. He switched the TV to shows Tony hated before throwing the remote to a different chair and sitting on Tony so he couldn’t change it. He even short-sheeted Tony’s bed on one memorable occasion.

And the way he smiled when he tricked Tony or one of his machines came to life made Tony’s heart race.

He really wanted to lavish him with kisses.

* * *

It was over half a year in when Agent Coulson appeared, flanked by Dr. Simmons and by the woman Jarvis had identified as Agent May.

Tony felt his stomach drop, but allowed them inside.

Fitz was making annoyed little noises as Tony practically dragged him out of the lab and to the penthouse.

Fitz pulled out a marker from his pocket before going over to the wall that had been painted just last week. He began where he left off in the lab.

Tony smiled fondly before hearing the elevator.

“You look not dead,” Tony said to Coulson when he came into view.

“Thank you.” Coulson looked unperturbed, his eyes zeroing in on Fitz. Jemma bolted over to Fitz.

“Fitz! I’m back! I’ve missed you so much! I’m so sorry it took us this long to come get you!” Jemma continued ranting.

Tony glanced at Agent May. She was putting off the same vibes Natasha did when she was about to interrogate someone. In other words, she made Tony uncomfortable.

“What brings you to my not so humble abode?”

“We’re here to collect Fitz, now that we have a safe place for him to work and live.” Tony felt his insides freeze. They were going to take him. The color drained away from his face.

“No. He stays here,” Tony said, his voice hollow.

Coulson stared at him, his expression unchanging. Jemma had stopped talking and Tony could feel her eyes on him.

“He is an agent of SHIELD.”

“SHIELD is gone.”

“I’m the new director.”

“I don’t care. You all abandoned him on my doorstep. You can’t just swoop in and take him whenever it’s convenient.”

“You were the best choice at the time. He would have been in danger otherwise,” Coulson tried to reason with him. Agent May shifted on her feet.

“Don’t even think about it,” he warned her. Tony wasn’t going to take any chances of Fitz being whisked away by a sneaky spy.

“Why don’t we ask Fitz what he want?” Jemma said to the group. Tony glanced at them. Fitz was tapping his marker against his jeans, his other hand clenched at his side.

Tony bit his tongue. Fitz still had yet to talk to him. He didn’t know if Fitz’ non-answer would encourage or discourage Coulson and his team from stealing Fitz away.

“Fitz,” Tony said while approaching him, “Coulson wants you to go back with them, but I’d rather you stay. The decision is up to you.”

Fitz stared at him for a moment before he looked at the ground. The marker slipped from his fingers. Fitz kept opening and closing his mouth. His brow furrowed and Tony felt like he might be sick. He didn’t realize how much Fitz meant to him until the threat of him leaving became clear.

“I…” Fitz said to himself, still staring at the ground. “I want to stay.” His eyes flicked up and met Tony’s. Fitz marched to him, shoulders set in determination, and hands balled up. _“I love you. Please let me stay.”_

Tony felt a jolt of excitement and happiness. He took in a gasp of air, almost choking on it. Tony pulled him into a hug and kissed him.

“Of course you can stay!” Tony laughed, tears fogging his eyes. “Stay forever!”


End file.
